


Unpack My Missteps

by shrdmdnssftw



Series: 1D Drabbles [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrdmdnssftw/pseuds/shrdmdnssftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where someone has a crush, and it's Harry's birthday. </p>
<p>For <a href="http://shrdmdnssftw.tumblr.com/post/36044015643">a prompt</a> on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpack My Missteps

If you were to ask Harry, three years ago, where he would be on his nineteenth birthday, he wouldn't've said this.

This being more than halfway to a drunken stupor outside Niall's room, sneaking in after a night out with Louis and Zayn. He somehow manages making it onto the balcony without a problem, probably helped by the fact that Niall's house only has one floor, but the plan all falls flat when he realises that the other guy is probably asleep, too many university lectures and band practises in the morning to try to ignore.

Harry decides he might as well try anyway, and raps his knuckles on the glass of Niall's bedroom window. He knows that the bed is pressed up right against the glass, but Harry also knows Niall could sleep through a hailstorm if you let him.

"Niall, c'mon," he feels himself saying, words slipping out of his mouth smoothly. "Wake up, Niall!"

And he giggles a little, because Niall has to wake up. He always does, for Harry at least. They'd always snuck out together, years of being next door neighbours and friends,  _best friends_ , until they weren't, but-

It's still something Harry remembers, and in between the shots of something strong and Zayn's fruity drinks that were almost  _too_ sweet, he'd kind of wished Niall was there. He bemoaned this to Louis after a while, said that he missed Niall and wondered what happened, until Louis reminded him that falling in love with your best mate was  _not_ a good idea, and that he should live while he's young and, here have another shot, okay?

Harry decides to try again, because Niall wouldn't really ignore him. Even when Harry had decided to be a bit shit about keeping in touch since New Year's, Niall had still sent him texts about his day, still said hello to Harry's mum at the shops, still didn't break eye contact first.

He tries again, knocking on the window probably a bit too hard. It's still cold out, and his skin is all red and white, knuckles and pale skin on a Saturday morning. Just as he walks over to the garden bed, trying to find a stone to throw, or something, the window cracks open and Niall's head pokes out, blonde and brown hair in the streetlamp light.

"Shhh, Harry, Christ, what're you doing here? It's half two in the morning," Niall says in a whisper, and Harry's not sure what it means, that he can't tell Niall's emotion from his tone.

"Wanted to see you," Harry mumbles, a little contrite. Not enough to stop himself from crawling in through the window though. He remembers when they'd had to shift the fly screen every time, until Niall's mother all but told them to remove it, woken up by the noise on too many occasions.

And so maybe it wasn't sneaking out, since Niall had had permission but there was something romantic about it all, Romeo and Juliet without the feuding families, or suicide. Or romance. 

"Jesus," Niall curses again, and he pulls Harry through, one arm around his torso and the other on his chest, making sure that they spill onto the bed, rather than the floor.

Harry rolls over so that he's pressed up against Niall, and smiles, a  _hello_ and  _oops_ at once. 

"Missed you," he says and Niall quirks an eyebrow.

"Wasn't aware I'd gone anywhere."

And Harry doesn't know what to do, except maybe shake his head, curls tickling the bottom of Niall's chin. 

"You weren't at my birthday," says Harry and he fists his hands into Niall's shirt, pulls him closer into what might've been a hug if it were reciprocated.

"Didn't know you wanted me to be, mate," Niall says. He sounds like he's annoyed, or the most that Niall can ever be, and he sits up, back against the wall, pulling away from Harry.

Harry makes a sad face at Niall's repositioning, and then follows him so that they're both sitting, facing out to the room where they've had too many many memories to count. 

"Always want you there," Harry says, and maybe it's the cold, or maybe it's his admission, but he's sobering up now. "Even when I didn't say it, yeah?"

And he turns to look at Niall, finds him staring at the posters across the room - bands and games and films that neither of them care for much any more, but still hang there. Harry reaches over, tips Niall's chin up and turns around to look him in the face.

There's a pause and Niall looks like he's going to say nothing at all, but then.

"You really didn't say anything," and Harry drops his hand away at that. "Didn't call or reply. Basically fell off the Earth."

Harry's not really sure if sorry will cut it at this point. He sits back up straight, ready to push himself off the bed and back out the door, because this was a shitty idea in the first place, and he has no clue what he's doing here and it's all bloody his fault and-

"I missed you too, though," Niall's saying, and Harry stops trying to find a way out. He looks back at Niall, and now his friend is angled towards him, light from the street outlining his shape against the window and he looks like Niall always does to Harry - bright and stark and solid and  _here_. He can't help himself, Harry pulls Niall close and gives him a hug, something that says it all, and still not quite enough, and he can't bring himself to let go.

"Niall, I-" Harry speaks into the side of Niall's neck, still not 100% on how to whisper, but then Niall's pulling back from him and they're face to face.

"You what, Harry?"

And even when it's come to this point, Harry still can't do it. "It's my birthday," he blurts out instead and Niall makes a curious expression.

"It was your birthday," Niall says, "three hours ago, maybe."

"Still," Harry continues, and it's cheesy and it's stupid, but it's also maybe his only hope of having something like Niall back in his life, the way he wants, so. "Can I ask for a present?"

Niall shakes his head at that, part disbelief and part amusement, because he hasn't got anything for Harry.

"Please," Harry says. "Just one?"

And he tries to be earnest, so much so, and when Niall raises his eyebrow in response, an  _okay_ , Harry leans back in, presses his lips to Niall's.

If Niall was expecting it at all, it doesn't show - not in the way his hands drop from where they'd been hugging Harry, not in the way his lips part in surprise.

But then Harry pulls away and it's breathing in each others' air and Harry's not sure if they're alright or not. 

"I just wanted," he breaks off. "That."

Niall's got a smile pulling at the edge of his lips though, and when Harry goes to get up off the bed, he grabs a hold of Harry's hand, tugs him back down.

"C'mere," Niall says, and Harry looks confused until Niall pulls him back into another kiss, firmer this time, more sure and lasting longer, lips warm underneath his.

When Harry pulls away this time, there's a smile on both their faces and Niall looks up at him, hand curled around Harry's side, thumb touching the gap between his shirt and jeans.

"Happy birthday," Niall says, and he leans back in to kiss Harry some more.


End file.
